


Untitled fic

by rubyofkukundu



Category: Gundam & Related Fandoms, Gundam 00
Genre: Alcohol, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-25
Updated: 2008-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neil meets the AEU's ace pilot in a bar. Drinking, sex and idiocy ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled fic

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: <http://kinkmeme.livejournal.com/3057.html?thread=113137#t1131372>
> 
> Written for the following prompt: Lockon x Patrick, random bar

It was already evening when Lockon arrived in London. His connecting flight to Belfast wasn’t until the next morning, so he’d booked himself into a hotel for the night. Returning home always made him uneasy, and he certainly wasn’t going to get any respite from sitting alone in his room all evening. He wandered downstairs to the hotel bar, with a firm intention to drink the night away.

He was sitting at the bar, nursing a pint of Guinness (they never knew how to pull it right in England), when a gaggle of girls crowded in through the door and piled around a table in the corner of the room. It didn’t take long to notice that at the centre of the group, around which the girls fluttered and giggled, was a man in uniform. This was mostly because, as soon as he was seated, he began to talk, very loudly.

It became apparent that the uniformed man wasn’t planning on stopping talking, or lowering his voice, at any time in the near future. Lockon saw that the other customers in the bar were beginning to become unsettled. Angry glances were cast over at the bustling group, and there was an amount of harrumphing. A number of the customers upped and left.

Lockon wasn’t so much annoyed as amused. He couldn’t help overhearing their conversation. Over the course of the next hour, he heard, repeatedly, that the man was Patrick Colasour, the AEU’s ace pilot, and that tomorrow he was going on a special mission to fight Celestial Being, and catch a Gundam.

Lockon chuckled quietly to himself.

Another hour went by, and the girls began to trickle away. As the last three were leaving, Patrick dismissed them with a point, a wink, and a toss of his red hair. He made his way over to the bar and ordered himself a whiskey.

‘Ah, the ladies love a pilot.’ He announced loudly to the whole room, even though Lockon and the barman were the only people still remaining.

‘Drives them crazy, you see. Some people think it’s the uniform, but it’s actually the skill they recognize.’

Lockon could tell that he was trying to catch his eye. He sighed. There was no use in trying to ignore him.

‘Is it really?’

‘Oh yes. The ladies know talent when they see it.’ Patrick hopped onto a barstool next to Lockon and flashed him a smile.

‘Maybe I should become a pilot then.’ Lockon mused with a small grin.

‘Not so fast! It’s more difficult than you think. Very few people have what it takes.’ Patrick threw a peanut up in the air and caught it in his mouth. ‘Hey…you’re Irish aren’t you?’

‘I am.’

‘I thought so.’ Patrick puffed out his chest, ‘I’ve got a good ear for accents you see. You’re from Dublin, right?’

Lockon grimaced inwardly. ‘Belfast.’

‘Oh right, of course. I thought so. Like I said, I’ve got a good ear for accents.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Here, let me buy you a drink.’

Lockon acquiesced and let Patrick get him another pint. Patrick clinked his whiskey against Lockon’s new glass.

‘Cheers. It’s nice to meet you, um…’ Patrick paused.

‘Michael.’ Lockon provided.

‘Well, nice to meet you Michael. I’m…’

‘AEU’s ace pilot, Patrick Colasour.’ Lockon grinned.

Shock washed over Patrick’s face for a split-second then retreated. ‘Ah, well, of course you’d know who I am. I am pretty famous after all.’ He beamed smugly.

The time seemed to pass pretty quickly after that. Lockon was quite happy to sit there, and Patrick was quite happy to talk on and on and on. Lockon didn’t even need to make up any more information about himself, as Patrick made sure that the conversation was focused on himself at all times.

What seemed like many drinks, and a whole bowl of peanuts, later, the bar was closing up and the barman was ushering them out into the hotel lobby.

‘I can’t believe they’re closing so early!’ Patrick squinted at the clock on the wall. It was 1:30am. ‘Let’s go somewhere else and drink some more.’ He hooked an arm around Lockon’s neck and swung him in the direction of the front door. Lockon found that he wasn’t quite ready to stop drinking either, and he allowed himself to be dragged along.

As they meandered towards the front door they noticed that outside on the street, the rain was streaming down onto the pavements.

Patrick groaned in disappointment, ‘There’s no way I’m going out in that weather!’ He paused for a second, leaning rather heavily on Lockon for support. ‘I know! Let’s go raid my minibar! I travel with all expenses paid, you know.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Lockon agreed, and they wove their up the stairs, arm in arm.

In Patrick’s room, Lockon kicked off his shoes, and sat down on the bed while Patrick rummaged in the fridge.

‘Hmm…What’ll it be, my good sir?’ Came a muffled voice from behind the fridge door.

‘A beer if you please.’ Lockon leant back against the headboard and stretched out his legs.

‘Oh come on. Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?’ Patrick emerged with a few bottles of something, and Lockon wondered if Patrick had been drinking spirits all evening. He did seem rather drunk, now that he thought about it.

After a lot of slamming of cupboards and clinking of bottles Patrick handed Lockon a glass of what smelled like a lot of vodka, and very little coke. Patrick then took off his shoes and uniform jacket, and unceremoniously tossed them onto the floor. Lockon watched him with a vague interest as he flopped backwards onto the foot of the bed with a whomph. After a while of staring up at the ceiling, Patrick delved into his trouser pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that had what looked to be a phone number written on it.

‘I’m meeting her tomorrow.’ He waved the paper in Lockon’s direction. ‘Did you see her? The blonde one.’

Lockon made a noncommittal noise.

‘Really hot, that one. Great tits.’ Patrick gestured with his hands. ‘Shame she couldn’t stay tonight really.’ He pouted at the paper, then let it fall to the floor.

A few minutes of companionable silence followed. Patrick titled his head back so that he was looking at Lockon, upside-down, through his hair. He smiled a lopsided smile.

‘You know, you’re not so bad looking yourself.’ He stretched an arm behind him and looked at Lockon through splayed fingers. ‘I bet you’re popular with the ladies.’

‘Ah…well…’ Lockon supposed he had been, once, but he hadn’t even so much as kissed a girl since he’d joined Celestial Being. Had it really been that long?

Patrick rolled over onto his stomach and grinned up at Lockon.

‘Let’s fuck!’

Lockon sputtered, and nearly dropped his drink. He placed it shakily to one side for its own safety.

‘Wh... what?’

‘Oh come on,’ Patrick raised himself up and started crawling up the bed towards Lockon, ‘it’ll be great. We’re both good-looking guys. You’re attractive. I’m attractive.’ He tossed his red hair out of his eyes. ‘Besides, I’m really horny now,’ he reached Lockon, and scrambled up his torso so he could look into his face, ‘and you get to tell all your friends that you got to sleep with the AEU’s ace pilot, Patrick Colasour.’

Lockon was sorely tempted to punch the smug face that stared back at him, but before he could react, Patrick had leaned forward, and was pressing their lips together. Lockon figured that he must be more drunk than he thought, because he wasn’t pushing Patrick away. In fact, he was kissing him back quite eagerly. He must be drunk; because there’s no way that he’d be this desperate, right? Surely he couldn’t be so desperate as to want this arrogant bastard? This arrogant bastard who happened to be shoving his tongue into his mouth in a very distracting way?

Patrick pushed Lockon back onto the bed, clambering on top of him, and all thoughts of berating himself left Lockon’s head.

They kissed, slowly and messily, in a tangle of arms and limbs, for what seemed like a long time. They were both flushed and panting when they broke for air, and Lockon hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it, but for how long had Patrick been slowly grinding his hips into his own?

Patrick reached down between them, where they were both hard (when did that happen?), and fumbled with the zipper to Lockon’s jeans. Five minutes later, and they were still both as fully clothed as they had been. Patrick swore under his breath. Lockon chuckled and pushed Patrick off of him.

‘Go on, I’ll do this. You go and take your own off.’

Patrick beamed and scrambled off the bed.

As Lockon kicked his jeans off, and threw the rest of his clothes to one side, he watched Patrick out of the corner of his eye with mild amusement. It was hard not to laugh as he watched Patrick jump around, and fall over, catching his foot in the leg of his trousers. When he was finally free, Lockon found he couldn’t suppress the laughter any longer.

‘It seems that someone dyes their hair…’

‘Shut up.’ Patrick grumbled, and clambered back onto the bed. He grabbed Lockon’s knees and forced them wide apart, exposing Lockon’s hard, flushed cock.

‘Shit, your dick looks good.’

Lockon stopped laughing and felt his breath catch in his throat. Patrick leaned in for a closer look, his hair tickling Lockon’s belly.

‘Fucking hell, is that the best dick I’ve seen in a while.’ And with one fell swoop, Patrick slid the head of Lockon’s shaft into his mouth.

Lockon and Patrick both groaned. Patrick ran his lips all the way down Lockon’s length and back up again, mouthing the tip.

Lockon’s hands fisted in the bed sheets.

Once again, Patrick slid his lips down as far as he could go, and moaned around Lockon’s cock. Lockon, panting, stared down at Patrick; it almost looked like Patrick was enjoying this more than he was. Patrick slid his mouth back up again, tonguing the underside as he went. He let Lockon’s cock fall out of his mouth. It glistened with saliva.

‘Jesus, I want you to fuck me with this dick so bad.’ His lips brushed the head of Lockon’s cock as he spoke.

Lockon’s knuckles were white. He swallowed thickly.

‘Ok.’

He pushed Patrick back by his shoulders, and looked him in the eye. ‘Lie down.’

Patrick scooted up the bed and laid himself on his stomach.

‘No. On your back.’

Patrick turned himself over. Lockon crawled up the bed until they were face-to-face. Patrick’s eyes were heavy-lidded as he looked up at him, and his lips were red and swollen. Lockon leaned down and caught those lips in a kiss. Patrick gave out a muffled whine. He struggled and pushed Lockon away.

‘What are you doing? Stop playing about. I want you to fuck me! Fuck me now!’

Lockon leaned down again until he was resting his forehead against Patrick’s.

‘If you want me to fuck you, then you’ll have to do it my way.’ His voice was low.

Any protest that Patrick was going to make was muffled by another kiss. His resolve seemingly weakened, he allowed Lockon to push his tongue inside his mouth and lazily explore it. When Lockon finally broke away and started kissing and nibbling at his neck and collarbone, Patrick made no move to stop him. Instead, Lockon felt a hand tangle in his hair. He moved down to mouth at Patrick’s chest, which was raising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath that Patrick took.

Reaching down, he took hold of Patrick’s cock, and stroked it a few times, squeezing tightly. The hand in his hair fisted painfully, and he heard Patrick swallow above him.

He pulled back to sit on his haunches and Patrick looked up at him expectantly.

‘Right. We’re going to need some lube. Do you have any?’ Lockon asked.

Patrick reached a hand up to his forehead, and rubbed at his temples. He sighed.

‘I don’t. But maybe there’s something in the bathroom we can use.’

Lockon got up, stretched, and wandered into the en-suite bathroom. A few minutes later he came back with a small bottle of complimentary conditioner.

‘This should do.’

‘Wait!” Patrick scrambled up onto his elbows. ‘Don’t use too much of that! I’ll need it for my hair tomorrow!’

Lockon gave Patrick an incredulous look, then proceeded to try to pour as much of the conditioner onto his fingers as possible.

He spread Patrick’s legs, and slowly pushed one finger into his entrance until it was buried to the knuckle. He heard an inhalation, and looked up to see Patrick watching him intently. He pulled out and inserted another finger. Hearing no further noise, he started to thrust his fingers in and out, and to widen them experimentally. The conditioner dribbled down his fingers to pool on the bed covers. After a few minutes, he heard Patrick snort.

‘Come on! I want you to fuck me with your dick, not with your fingers!’

Lockon looked up.

‘Don’t you ever shut up?’ He curled his fingers, and Patrick arched his back, collapsing back onto the bed and groaning. Lockon did it again, and Patrick’s hips rose from the mattress.

‘Oh shit. Mooore!’ Patrick pushed his hips down onto Lockon’s fingers, greedily. Lockon continued to thrust and curl his fingers until Patrick was moaning continually. Eventually he withdrew them and sat back.

He fumbled around for the bottle of conditioner. Finding it, he smeared the remaining contents onto his cock, closing his eyes and taking a sharp breath. He could feel Patrick watching him like a hawk.

Lockon positioned himself at Patrick’s entrance. They both held their breaths as he pushed his way inside. When he had entered as far as he could, he had to pause to try to regain control of himself. Lockon could feel Patrick all around him. He was so tight! The pleasure was so sharp it was almost painful.

He was brought back to his senses when he felt Patrick’s heel kicking the back of his legs.

‘Move…damn you…’ Patrick’s voice was shaking. ‘Move!’

Lockon slid out, slowly, ever so slowly, and thrust back in. Patrick threw his head back into the pillow and groaned, long and low. Lockon’s hips found a rhythm; slow, and excruciatingly good. Patrick’s hips pushed back, matching every thrust.

Lockon continued to fuck Patrick like this, ever so slowly, and ever so good, for what couldn’t have been long, but for what felt like hours. Eventually the visceral noises of thrust upon thrust upon thrust became overpowered by the sounds of their breaths, ragged and hitching. Eventually Patrick’s limbs wrapped around Lockon, dragging him down and squeezing them close together. And eventually Patrick pulled Lockon’s head down and kissed him, sloppily, messily and languidly.

Lockon’s thrusts sped up. He was losing control. Patrick’s limbs squeezed him tighter, but he managed to weasel an arm between their bodies, and catch Patrick’s cock in a firm grasp. He tried desperately to pump Patrick’s length in time to his thrusts, but found it difficult, co-ordination slipping from his grasp. He settled on blindly grasping, squeezing and pulling on the hard flesh. Patrick’s kiss became more fervent, pulling Lockon’s tongue into his mouth, and sucking on it.

Finally, Lockon felt his muscles clench as one, and he came, hard and fast, hips jerking into Patrick’s tight hole. Through the euphoric haze, he found himself squeezing Patrick’s cock and giving it two final tugs, until Patrick was coming too, semen spurting between their stomachs, and dribbling over Lockon’s hand.

For a few minutes, Lockon could do nothing but lie there, feeling the rise and fall of Patrick’s chest underneath his own. His body felt weak and suddenly very tired.

Eventually he mustered the energy to push himself up and go wander into the bathroom to wipe himself down.

When Lockon returned, Patrick hadn’t moved. He lay, tousled, on the sheets, his belly spattered with his own come. Lockon started to gather and put on his clothes.

‘You,’ Patrick pointed a shaky finger in Lockon’s general direction, ‘are bloody good at that.’

‘Thank you.’ Lockon searched around for his shoes.

‘Hey, aren’t you going to stay for another drink? Another round?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ Lockon finished tying his laces and stood up. ‘I’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow; I’ve got to go sleep.’

Patrick pouted, but seemingly couldn’t muster the energy to do anything else.

Lockon walked to the door and turned around.

‘Well. Goodnight Mr Ace Pilot.’ He smiled at Patrick.

Patrick beamed back at him, pride flooding his face. From where he was lying on the bed, he gave Lockon a weak salute.

‘Goodnight Mr Irish Man!’

Lockon chuckled, and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

He gave a wry smile.

‘What an idiot.’


End file.
